


Be Careful What You Wish For

by TheGreatSporkWielder



Category: Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, I totally love this pairing, Tony just kind of shows up and then makes innuendo, crackship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-18
Updated: 2012-05-18
Packaged: 2017-11-05 13:53:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/407179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGreatSporkWielder/pseuds/TheGreatSporkWielder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy thinks that, as Bruce Banner's girlfriend, she should get a front-row seat to see the Other Guy at least once. Bruce doesn't like that idea.</p><p>(Also, she wants a catsuit. But Bruce is a little bit more okay with that one.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be Careful What You Wish For

**Author's Note:**

> Gosh, what a crackship. But I LOVE IT. 
> 
> This fic has established Bruce/Darcy and takes place sometime after "The Avengers," but there aren't really any spoilers. 
> 
> I don't own any of this.

“Hey,” said Darcy over breakfast one morning. “Do you think they'll give _me_ a catsuit like Natasha's?” 

 

“Um,” said Bruce, his eyebrows wrinkling in confusion. “Not that I wouldn't love to see you in one, but why would you need it?”

 

“Hey, you never know,” Darcy replied, leaning back and throwing one arm lazily over the back of her chair. “One of these days, some bad guy might come into my office and then I'll have to knock him out.”

 

“And you can only do that if you're wearing a catsuit?”

 

“Have _you_ ever tried knocking out a guy while wearing a pencil skirt? Wait, don't answer that.”

  


Bruce just rolled his eyes at her over his coffee mug.

 

“Also,” she continued, “I think I should get to come along on a mission one of these days. I could be your blogger or something. Like on _Sherlock,_ but sexier. _”_

 

“Darcy,” said Bruce solemnly, setting his coffee cup down, “We've talked about this.”

 

Bruce had told Darcy back when they'd first started dating that he was worried that the Other Guy wouldn't recognize her. He'd recognized Betty, Darcy had pointed out, but Bruce had replied that he couldn't count on that happening again. Betty might have been a fluke, or maybe because he and Betty had so much history, some of it had trickled through to the Other Guy's brain.

 

Darcy rolled her eyes. “I know, I know,” she said, “but what, do you think I'm gonna stand there, bat my eyelashes at him, and call him Hulky-poo or something? I'll just stay out of the way.”

 

“Hulky-poo?” Bruce replied incredulously, his eyebrows almost at his hairline. Lifting one hand and running it through his already messy hair, he said, “You know what, never mind. I don't even--”

 

“And you never know,” she interrupted. “He recognizes the other Avengers. He knew to rescue Tony rather than let him splat against the ground after the nuke thing. And he pulled Clint out of the way of that grenade when you guys were in Bratislava.”

 

But Bruce was adamant that she stay far away. “I don't want you getting hurt,” he said. “It's bad enough that I have to worry about the Other Guy hurting innocent civilians, I don't want to have to worry about hurting you, too.”

 

“Okay, fine,” she said, reaching one hand across the table to cover his. “I'll stay in my teeny office while you go off and have all the fun. At least get somebody to take some good pictures every now and then, though.”

 

Darcy thought it was totally unfair that she was, for all intents and purposes, the Hulk's girlfriend, and yet she'd never actually seen the Hulk in person.  It was really kind of dumb of her because, judging by what she'd seen on TV, the Hulk was fucking _scary_ (Hell, even Natasha “I Can Kill You Seventeen Different Ways With That Pen You're Playing With, And If You Don't Stop Clicking It, I'm Going to Prove It To You” Romanoff got twitchy around him) _,_ but still. One of these days, she wanted to see him in action for herself.

 

* * *

 

She was minding her own business, filing some paperwork about that guy in the spider outfit that Fury was trying to recruit, when suddenly what Tony Stark referred to as the “OH, SHIT!” alarm started blaring. When that alarm went off, Darcy'd been told in no uncertain terms when she'd first been hired, she was supposed to go to the panic room down the hall with the rest of the flunkies, but when she opened her door and poked her head out, she'd nearly been hit in the face with a laser beam. “'Oh, shit' is right,” she muttered as she ducked back inside and closed the door. “So much for the panic room.” She dug through her purse and pulled out her taser (thanks to SHIELD, she now had one that could put down a rampaging elephant), and tucked herself into the far corner of her office, between the copy machine and the back wall. When someone started banging on the door, she curled herself up as tight as she could go and held the taser in front of her, prepared to strike anyone who came after her. She flinched and bit her lip as the door flew open, forced by the hard kick of the person on the other side. She looked up to meet the menacing eyes of a man carrying a gun, who, upon seeing her, smiled a Not At All Nice smile. _All we need now is the evil laugh,_ thought Darcy, _and he'll be the perfect stereotypical bad guy. He's even got the facial scars, for crying out loud._

 

Over the pounding of her heart, she heard the roar of the Hulk, felt the floor shudder as he thumped his way down the hall. Maybe if she screamed, he might come and save her. Of course, there was also the chance that he'd squish her, too, but she certainly preferred death by Hulk Smash to death by Being Beaten To A Pulp (And Maybe Worse) By A Creepy Bad Guy.

 

As the man drew closer and she raised her taser in a shaky hand, she suddenly wished that she hadn't worn the brown sweater today; it made her look lumpy, and if she was going to die, it would've been nice to go out wearing, say, the blue shirt that made her eyes and boobs look  _awesome._

 

Or that catsuit.

 

“Hello, there,” said the man ( _Seriously,_ Darcy said to herself, _do they have tryouts when hiring goons? They even_ _ **sound**_ _evil)._ “What are you doing hiding back there?”

 

“Stay right where you are, asshole,” she said, inwardly applauding herself for keeping the fear (mostly) out of her voice. “Or I'll fry you like bacon.” 

 

The man laughed ( _And there it is,_ Darcy thought). “Well, sweetheart, I'd certainly like to see you--”

 

Before he could finish, there was a deafening roar. “ **No hurt Darcy!!** ” the Hulk yelled as he came crashing into the room, grabbed the Creepy Evil Dude, and threw him through the wall. Darcy squished herself even further into the corner and clutched her taser until her knuckles turned white. Natasha had been right, the Hulk was scary, and _damn,_ he was HUGE, and Darcy found it hard to believe that her sweet boyfriend Bruce, who gave her foot massages and made her dinner, was the same guy who was now grabbing her solid oak desk (that she'd saved up for and purchased by herself, dammit; why couldn't he grab a filing cabinet?) and throwing it through the opposite wall into the hallway at another group of goons.

 

She flinched a bit when the Hulk turned to look at her, but he merely grunted, “ **Darcy safe now** ,” nodded satisfactorily, and stomped back out of the room, leaving her gaping after him, her taser now dangling from her slack fingers.

 

* * *

 

“See,” she said later, as she plopped down onto the couch, kicked off her heels, and put her feet in Bruce's lap. “I told you he'd recognize me.”

 

Bruce rolled his eyes, but smiled softly at her as he slowly started to rub one ankle. “I guess he's got a bit of a thing for damsels in distress.”

 

Darcy snorted as she sank further into the cushions and thanked God for considerate boyfriends. “I was so  _not_ in distress. I was just about to tase the shit out of that evil dude when the Not-So-Jolly Green Giant came in and threw him through the goddamn  _wall.”_

 

“So, next time, he should just say 'Hi, Honey,' and move on?”

 

“ _Fuck,_ no,” she said. “Rescue away, big boy. I'm just saying. But you totally owe me a new desk.”

 

“And couple of new walls.”

 

“Eh,” she said, waving one hand dismissively. “SHIELD can cover that. But they're going to try to stick me with one of those shitty metal desks that they give all the little minions, that have, like, two drawers that never open anyway, and barely enough room for a computer. I want a desk that belongs in some hotshot lawyer's office, that takes up so much space in my office that I have to climb over it to sit down because there's no floor left, and can double as a life raft when the ice caps melt and flood the city.”

 

“Glad to see you're thinking ahead,” said Bruce, smile widening, as his hands slid down her ankle and began massaging her foot. “Though I think you've watched _The Day After Tomorrow_ one too many times.” 

 

“Fuck you,” she said lightly, jabbing him in the leg with the toes of her free foot. “Global warming is totally real. But I'd let you up on the raft with me. Unlike that bitch, Rose, who hogged the whole fucking door.”

 

“Thank you, I guess,” said Bruce.

 

“Thanks for what?” said Tony Stark, as he appeared out of nowhere and sprawled in a nearby chair.

 

“Not turning me into Jack Dawson,” Bruce answered.

 

“Ah,” said Tony, nodding knowingly. “I hear ya. 'Never let go,' my ass.”

 

Darcy looked from one man to the other. “You two are actually admitting you've seen _Titanic?”_ she asked incredulously.

 

“Three words,” said Tony, counting them off on one hand. “Kate Winslet naked.”

 

“I should've known,” Darcy muttered.

 

“Is there a reason you came over here?” asked Bruce. Darcy wiggled her toes at him, and he glanced down at her feet before releasing the foot he'd been absentmindedly rubbing and wrapping his warm hands around the other one. She gave a contented little sigh and melted back into the cushions.

 

“Other than to coo over how adorably whipped you are? Nope.”

 

“Says the man who just gave Pepper Potts an entire _skyscraper_ ,” said Darcy, without lifting her head.

 

“Jealous?” asked Tony, raising an eyebrow.

 

“Fuck, yeah,” said Darcy. “I want a skyscraper.”

 

“I'd give you one, but I don't think the big man would appreciate me putting your name on a giant phallic symbol. Unless it was, you know, _his--_ ”

 

“Oh, God, not again,” muttered Bruce before Darcy could blurt out something equally inappropriate.

 

She sat up, pulled her feet from Bruce's lap, and scooted over to rest her chin against his shoulder. “Are we embarrassing you?” she asked as he wrapped one arm around her shoulders.

 

“Not quite yet,” he replied, turning his head to kiss her temple. “Since I've started hanging around you two, I've sort of gotten used to this.”

 

“Don't get _too_ used to it,” Darcy said. “You're cute when you blush.” She raised one hand and ran it through his hair.

 

“See?” said Tony. “Whipped.”

 

“Careful,” said Darcy, turning to face him. “Or my boyfriend will throw you out the window.”

 

“Pfff,” said Tony, waving a dismissive hand. “I've been thrown out the window by a god.”

 

“A god who got tossed around like a chew toy,” replied Darcy. “By...oh, _right!_ My _boyfriend.”_

 

“Okay, okay,” said Tony, holding up his hands in defeat. “I get it.” He stood up. “I'll just leave you two crazy lovebirds to it, then,” he called over he shoulder as he left the room.

 

“Well,” said Bruce, using the arm around her shoulders to pull her closer. “Today proved you were right about one thing.”

 

“Oh, yeah?” Darcy asked, smiling. “And what's that?”

 

Bruce smiled back. “We should look into getting you that catsuit.” 

**Author's Note:**

> It's my personal canon that if Bruce hulks out voluntarily, he has a lot more control over the Hulk. I'm fanwanking it so that means that Hulk would recognize people important to Bruce, and would, therefore, be Darcy's knight in..well, tattered trousers, I guess.


End file.
